Nico
NICO
Everly drove out of the parking lot, the taillights of her truck disappearing a few seconds later. I swiped a hand over my face. Goddammit. I hadn’t intended to kiss her, but now that it had happened and I knew the taste of her lips, the way her breasts crushed to my chest, the feel of her shapely hips beneath my roughened hands, the memory would haunt my dreams forever.
I shouldn’t have touched her, and I sure as hell shouldn’t have fucking kissed her. All I’d done was ignite the embers in my belly instead of dousing them. Everly had made no secret of her attraction to me or her desire to kill me with kindness in some vain hope she could shine a light into the darkest corners of my heart. And now that we’d kissed, and especially given that much tongue and a hard-on that could knock a ball for a straight home run, she’d know I was just as attracted to her.
She didn’t fool me; it was her fury at what she saw as interference that’d sent her storming off. The unexpectedness of the kiss had tipped her off-balance and smothered her anger, and that was the very last thing she intended to happen. She wanted to stay mad at me, and I guessed I deserved it.
With the benefit of hindsight, I should’ve spoken to her first before poking my nose into her business, but when I’d seen that dark, angry bruise on Rhett’s arm, and he’d told me how he got it, an urge to protect him had overcome me. He wasn’t mine, and I had zero rights to step in and defend him, but that hadn’t stopped me. Good thing I went, too, because that Wilson fucker was a dick. I could see why his kid was a bully. He’d learned at the knee of an expert—his old man. Poor little bastard didn’t stand a chance. His future was already set, even at the tender age of six.
I’d meant to talk to Everly and tell her I’d warned Wilson off last night, but as I’d picked up the phone to call her, Tate had appeared at my door. He made some bullshit excuse about him and Madison having a few vacation days before he headed out to Azerbaijan, but he didn’t fool me. He’d drawn the short straw to check up on me. Still, I’d been thrilled to see him and by the time we’d finished talking about the school and how well it was going, it’d been too late to call Everly. I’d vowed to call this morning, but from the second I’d risen from bed until now, I’d been yanked from pillar to post and had forgotten the entire episode with Wilson. Just my luck for his missus to confront Everly before I’d had a chance to get to her first.
I flopped back into my chair, but the moment I did, the alarm on my watch went off. I glanced at the reminder and sighed. Dammit. I’d forgotten all about my physio appointment. After the embarrassment of trying to get up Everly’s front steps, I’d committed to going more regularly, even if I did think it was a complete waste of time. The movement I had now was the best I could hope for. My physiotherapist had as good as told me precisely that. Then again, I supposed it meant I got to keep the movement I did have, rather than expecting some miracle to give me back what I’d lost.
Not that it made any difference these days. Almost two years since the accident, and Formula One had moved on. Even if I woke tomorrow with full movement in both ankles, I wouldn’t get the offer of a coveted seat. At thirty-one, I was a has-been, and nothing would change that.
I grabbed my keys and locked my office door. Adele gave me a questioning look as I approached, one I ignored.
“Off to physio. Back later.”
“Sure thing, .”
Her voice sounded far too bright and filled with a promise that I wasn’t off the hook. She wanted details, and she’d drill until she got them. Good luck to her. She wouldn’t find out what had happened in my office between me and Everly, not from me, anyway.
Ninety minutes later, I walked out of the physio’s office, and although I’d never admit it to her, my ankles were marginally less stiff. I didn’t expect it to last, but for now, the limp I’d become accustomed to hardly showed.
Feeling like celebrating, and with a clear calendar this afternoon—despite telling Adele to expect me back—I pulled up Tate’s number and hit the call button.
“If you’re calling to ask me to bail you out of jail, I’m busy.”
I laughed at his greeting. “The cops haven’t caught up with me yet,” I joked. “Just wondering what you’re doing, and if you say, ‘Madison,’ I’m putting down the phone.”
“If I was, I wouldn’t have answered your fucking call.”
I laughed harder. As much as I sometimes allowed what I’d lost to pull me to dark places and hold me prisoner there, I had the best friends a man could hope for in Tate and Jared, as well as two parents who thought I walked on water and who adored me, even if I didn’t go to see them nearly as often as I should. These were the things that made me rich in everything that truly mattered.
And now I could add Rhett to that list. There was something about that kid that called to me on a level I hadn’t expected. I wanted to protect him, to encourage and foster his raw talent, to give him the life he deserved.
But what about Everly? Did I want to go there? At thirty-one, I’d never had a long-term relationship. Hadn’t been remotely interested. Yet a single mum with sea-blue eyes that saw right through my bullshit made me hanker after a life I hadn’t imagined for myself.
“Fancy meeting up for a beer?” I asked. “Sonnie’s in fifteen?”
“Yup, I’m in, although I’ve no idea what or where Sonnie’s is.”
“That’s what satnav’s are for.”
He laughed. “Dick. Any reason for this impromptu get-together? I thought you’d have had enough of me last night.”
“No. Actually, yeah.” I suddenly realized I wanted to talk to him about Everly and why I was so determined not to explore a fling, or more. I’d racked up the excuses, and all of them had started to sound like BS when I replayed them in my mind.
He chuckled. “Well, which one is it?”
“Just get your arse to Sonnie’s, jerkoff.”
I hung up and climbed into my car. When I reached the bar, I couldn’t spot any free spaces, so I pulled into the lot across the street. I did spot Tate’s rented Ferrari parked right outside, though. Rolling my eyes, I pushed open the door, spying Tate at the bar with two bottles of beer in front of him, condensation dripping down the sides. One of the great things about America versus England was that the beer was always cold here. Back home, not so much. It was more of a potluck situation than a guarantee.
“How the fuck did you get that space right outside?” I asked, sliding onto the stool next to his. “Don’t tell me. As you drove down the street, a bright light shone down from heaven and Moses parted the parked cars, making a spot just for you.”
Tate gave me one of his “What the fuck are you rambling on about?” expressions, the one with the arched eyebrow and a hint of mirth twisting his mouth.
“What can I say? Some people have it, and some don’t.”
“If you fell into a vat of shit, you’d come up smelling of Armani.”
He laughed, picked up one of the beers by the neck, and knocked it against mine. I drank deeply, the distinctive taste of hops and alcohol cooling my throat. “Fuck, it’s hot today.”
“Is that what you dragged me out here for? To discuss the fucking weather?”
Poking my tongue on the inside of my cheek, I shook my head. “No.”
He shifted in his seat to face me, catching the uncertainty in my tone. “I’m listening.”
Keeping it as brief as I could—men weren’t exactly deep sharers when it came to, well, anything—I told him first about Rhett and then about his mother. I laid it all on the line, how I’d felt an instant attraction, then thought she was married, which meant she was off-limits. And then how I’d read her application and discovered the truth, but despite that, I’d remained determined to avoid her.
Until today.
“Y’know, I’m sure that application came to me,” Tate said, rubbing his chin. “In fact, yup, it’s coming back to me now. I didn’t hesitate to put the kid forward for a place. Who wouldn’t when you read what his mother had written?” His crooked smile alerted me to an imminent ribbing. “And you stick your tongue down her throat the second she opens her mouth. At least it wasn’t your cock. Small mercies, I suppose. Should we expect a lawsuit for sexual harassment?”
“Fuck off, Tate. It’s not like that. Don’t make me regret talking to you about this.”
He nudged me with his elbow. “Lighten up, man. So, you like this woman?”
“Yeah, but it’s hardly ethical, is it?”
Tate angled his head and stared at me. “What the fuck are you talking about? She’s over twenty-one. So are you. You’re not taking advantage of her or telling her that if she doesn’t put out, her kid loses his place. You’re not using any kind of coercion. What’s really going on here? What are you so afraid of? Voodoo pussy?”
I blinked a few times while I picked at the label on my beer bottle. It came away easily. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing. After the accident, I kind of lost it there for a while.”
“Yeah, I know. I witnessed the whole thing, remember?”
I nodded. “I haven’t had sex in… a while. Not since the day you and Jared came over to my place in London and staged an intervention.”
Tate’s brows shot up. “That was fucking months ago. Fuck me. No wonder you’re such a broody bastard. You should definitely fuck her before your dick falls off.”
“Helpful,” I drawled.
“Stop being such a pussy. She likes you, you like her. You kissed her. She told you to back off, not because she didn’t like you kissing her but because you butted into her business when you had no right to. Let her cool off for a bit and then make a move. And please, have sex soon. I’m worried for your health.”
I laughed, shaking my head at him, and downed three inches of my beer. “She’s still married.”
“To a dick who abandoned her and her kid,” Tate scoffed. “A worthless piece of paper. That’s all.”
I ran my tongue along the inside of my cheek. He had a point.
“How’s the kid doing?” Tate asked, changing the subject.
“He’s got real talent.” I broke into a grin. “And I mean real talent . A natural ability that’s fucking rare. If he wants it bad enough, he can go all the way.”
“Hmm. I might have to carve out some time in my schedule to come see him drive before I head back home. And check out the mother at the same time.” He winked.
“I’m sure Madison would love to hear about those kinds of antics.”
He scowled. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” I said. “But it doesn’t hurt to put you in your place every once in a while.”